Sins of the Flesh
by Aedemiel
Summary: A between seasons fic to bridge between the S12 finale and the S13 premiere. Castiel is dead. Which is why he's surprised to wake up somewhere strange. He has to face a test of his character in order to earn the right to be resurrected.


It was bright, really unbearable bright and Cas found himself unable to open his eyes for more than a fraction of a second before closing them again to the relief of total darkness. Which was odd, if it was really so light then surely he would see it even through closed lids. He pushed that mystery aside and concentrated on what else he could observe through his other senses.

He wasn't hot or cold, in fact it was hard to say what the temperature was. He seemed to be lying on something soft, like a mattress or a pile of cushions. But when he extended a hand to try and get more information, it seemed to pass through whatever he was lying on as though it were insubstantial. He tried to inhale and experienced a brief moment of panic when no air seemed to be drawn into his body.

"Relax," a voice said. It was a light tenor that could be either male or female. He didn't recognize it. "You've been in a vessel so long, you've forgotten what it's like to be in your true form."

His true form? Cas processed that, turning the idea over in his mind. He was in Heaven? There was a soft sound, not quite a laugh but almost.

"No, Castiel. This is definitely not Heaven."

Not Heaven, and not earth if he was out of his vessel. That left very few possibilities. He tried to concentrate, to remember how to function as he truly was; a wavelength of celestial intent. The sensations he'd been experiencing faded and as they did, memory swept over him. He was dead. He'd felt the burning anguish as Lucifer's blade had slipped easily between his ribs, his Grace exploding as he was consumed and destroyed. And the last vision he'd seen, the look of devastation on Dean Winchester's face.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thought he ought to feel something about that. But it was all muted and muffled, like it had happened to someone else. In a sense, he supposed it had. He wasn't the same inside a vessel as he was in his natural state.

"That's better," the mystery voice said. "How do you feel?"

"Uncomfortable," Cas admitted. "I expect that will fade as I adjust. Who are you?"

"I don't have a name, as such," the voice said. "I have been known as the Isro."

"The promise?" Cas said, confused. "What promise?"

"When God created man, he asked you all to love them, did he not?" the Isro said. "To those of you who obeyed, he made a promise not to forsake you in your moment of need. Which translates to, if you die you come here to be tested."

"Tested?" A sliver of concern rippled through Cas's being. "To what purpose?"

"If you are worthy, you get a choice. If not, you pass into the Empty. Many of your fellows pass through here and some will choose that willingly. Others must face the test."

"My siblings have been through here?" Cas asked.

He got the impression of a shrug, even though there was nothing to see. "They are here. All of those that have died. Including many that you yourself have killed."

"I don't understand."

"We're outside of space and time," the Isro said. "This is a bubble of isolation, outside of creation. Accidentally created, but your Father decided it could be useful. He does so like second chances."

"I see," Cas said. "Can I see any of them? My brothers and sisters, I mean."

"There are one or two who might agree to meet with you. If you pass the test." The Isro sounded amused, like she was expecting him to fail and Cas's mild concern morphed into alarm. "Enough questions, I wish to begin the testing."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Cas said ruefully.

"Nonsense," the Isro denied. "You can choose the Empty here and now, if you like. Or at anytime during the test. But you forfeit the opportunity to meet with your kin or to return to creation."

"Very well," Cas said in resignation. "I guess I've got nothing to lose."

"That's the spirit," the Isro said sarcastically. "Now, I'm going to ask you to show me memories and then ask you questions."

"That's it? That's the test?"

"That's all. Simple, isn't it?"

That seemed unlikely to Cas, who was certain this was some kind of trap. "OK."

"The first test is humility and pride. Show me your memory of the day you opened the door to Purgatory and consumed the souls within."

Anger and humiliation roiled through Cas, if he'd had teeth he'd have ground them together. "Not one of my finer moments," he said with ironic understatement. When the Isro didn't respond, he combed through his memories to find the one it wanted.

It wasn't as clear as it once was. Which was strange because angel memories, unlike humans, did not fade as time passes. But perhaps he had not cared to remember how far from the track he'd strayed.

 _The feeling of the souls inside him, Leviathan too, had been more power than he'd ever felt in his entire existence. He'd swelled with it, the sensation heady and exciting. His reasons for pursuing this path had been forgotten in the pursuit of this power and now it was all his. No more betrayals, no more being beset by enemies on all sides. Bobby Singer was kneeling before him, and Sam and Dean were beginning to bend too. He looked directly into Dean's eyes. But there was no love, no appreciation for him here. Only fear. It would not do and he told him so._

"There," the Isro said. "Stop there. That's the moment. Feel it, Castiel. The pride you felt in that exact moment."

It hurt. It hurt more than anything Cas had ever experienced. The terror on Dean's face, and his own exultation at it even as it angered him not to see the love and worship he felt he deserved. "Please," he begged. "Can't we move on?"

"No," the Isro said, its voice hard and unyielding. "I want you to look deeper."

Cas didn't understand what this meant but he did his best, examining the scene that was getting sharper and more vivid as he did so. There were tears in Dean's eyes, tears of grief and loss. And something else that Cas did not recognize. "Even when I could have destroyed him with a thought, he still tried to reach me," he said wonderingly. "How is it possible for him to have had so much faith in me?"

The memory evaporated and Cas felt a disorienting sense of dislocation. "The first test is complete," the Isro said. It didn't seem like Cas was going to get any indication of whether he was passing this test or flunking it. "The next test is kindness and envy. Show me what happened when you tried to save Sam and Dean from Gabriel's televisual nightmare."

Cas felt his essence pulse, taken off guard. Whereas the last memory the Isro had demanded had demonstrated how he had foolishly fallen into pride and allowed it to consume him until he'd committed atrocities, he couldn't quite see how this memory fitted with the theme it had announced. But he did what it asked, sifting through until he found what he was looking for.

 _He knew something was terribly wrong, that this being that claimed to be a Trickster was way too powerful. And his suspicions had begun to crystalize when he got close enough to be able to detect the distinctive vibrations of angelic grace. It hadn't taken much detective work after that. Only one angel was missing from Heaven and unaccounted for, and although it had been Michael's opinion that Gabriel had died, Cas had seen no evidence for it. The bigger question was why Gabriel had gone to all this trouble. Not the hiding, that much made sense. He'd never liked the fighting and Cas had often found him hidden in some corner of Heaven, weeping when the stress of it all had gotten too much. And then one day he was just gone, and Cas was bereft. But the rest of Heaven had just moved blithely on, like Gabriel hadn't mattered. No wonder he'd left._

 _Hiding out as a pagan god was actually a pretty smart strategy. None of the other pagans would notice he wasn't what he claimed to be. Only another angel would notice, and it seemed Gabriel had gone out of his way to make sure not to cross paths with any of his brethren. It must have been fun, Cas thought. And peaceful. What he would give for that now, took his breath away._

"Stop," the Isro commanded. "Focus on this moment."

This wasn't as painful as the last test, but it was not comfortable either. His envy of Gabriel's construction of his own world, far from the suffering of being one of the Host was not something he even remembered recognizing when this had happened. He'd been too terrified for what his brother might do to the Winchester brothers in his maddened state.

Because it was all too obvious that Gabriel was doing this because he was angry. Angry that the Apocalypse had kicked off, at Michael and Lucifer for being unwilling to buck God's orders even when they were stupid and destructive and pointless. Anger at the Host for marching in lockstep. He wished he'd reached out to Gabriel. Apologized, even for the things that weren't his fault. Begged him to help him and the Winchester's put an end to this craziness.

The memory slipped out of reach so suddenly, Cas felt sick for a moment, which was ridiculous given his incorporeal state. "The second test is concluded. Do you need a break?"

"What does it cost?" Cas rasped.

"Nothing," the Isro told him. "There's no time here, so we can take as many breaks as you choose."

"Is Gabriel here?" Cas asked, suddenly filled with the need to see his deceased brother.

"He's here. He's enduring his own test. If you both pass, then you can see him." The Isro sounded skeptical but Cas wasn't sure whether it was of him passing or Gabriel.

"Let's keep going," he said.

"Very well. The next test is patience and wrath. This is going to be a tough one for you, Castiel. It has been difficult to select the best memory for this test, you have so many." It was true and Cas felt ashamed. "But I've decided on the moment Dean Winchester lost his will to continue the fight. He was all ready to say yes to your brother Michael."

Cas didn't need to search hard for this memory. He'd been afraid as soon as he began to understand this testing process that this memory would be called for. It hurt even thinking about it but he had to go through with it if he was to have any chance of getting back to earth. To Dean. And Sam of course.

 _The alley is dark and smells of urine and despair. It's the perfect place for this, as the full force of Cas's fury roars through him like a tsunami. Everything was turning to dust. Dean was slipping away from him despite everything they'd been through together. The will to fight had been draining away for weeks now and he'd known it but had been sure that Dean's love for Sam would keep him from making the mistake of giving in to Michael. He could see now how mistaken he was and he'd not realized how manipulative Michael could be. How he was twisting that familial love and turning it against him._

 _So he takes it out on Dean now. He's just so damn angry, and there's a catharsis in pounding his fists into this human who dared challenge him to think outside the box, pushed him to rebel and made him feel all kinds of things he hadn't felt before in all of his existence. He snarled his rage in Dean's face, demanding what couldn't be given and wanting to scream when all Dean wanted was to die._

"There," the Isro said. "Concentrate on this moment."

If Cas had thought the first memory had hurt, it was nothing compared to this. He longed for the dispassionate state he'd once been able to occupy, but it seemed even without his vessel he was no longer capable of it. Agony throbbed and shivered through the wavelength. If he'd had eyes, he'd have wept. Where had the smart-mouthed, cocky hunter he'd fallen- he'd defied Heaven for gone? Somewhere along the way, he'd lost Dean and it seemed Dean had lost himself. And it was partly his fault, he could see that now. If he'd trusted Dean and made his peace with Sam, they might not have come to this pass.

And if he were more honest with himself and his feelings, perhaps he could have saved Dean from falling into despair. Guilt washed over him and he began to wonder how much more of this he could bear. The Empty beckoned and an end to his pain. But he'd seen Dean's face in the moment of his death and he allowed it to bring him resolve.

"The third test is done," the Isro said. Cas really wished he knew if he was making progress or merely staving off inevitable oblivion. But he knew the Isro wouldn't or couldn't tell him. Maybe that too was a test.

"The fourth test is diligence and sloth," the Isro said. Cas knew immediately which memory it was going to request. "Let me see you recovering from the witch Rowena's attack dog spell."

 _Sam had said on the phone that he could use something called Netflix in his room. Following his scant instructions, Cas had turned on the TV and after a few moments figuring out which remote control to use, had pulled up a purple menu of square pictures. Amazon, HBO, hulu. He frowned and was almost about to give up when he realized he was staring right at it, the red and white Netflix logo. He selected it and after a moment it asked him to select a 'profile'. Unsure what to do he picked 'Dean'._

 _The array of choices here was almost staggering. How was he supposed to choose from this bewildering assortment of choices? He then saw that there was a list of things Dean had presumably watched before. After scrolling past a few war movies and some cartoon that made his head spin, he found a show called the Wire that attracted his interest. And another, Orange is the New Black. Strange title, but Dean had obviously enjoyed it. He pressed a button to select it and settled down on Sam's bed._

 _He hadn't expected to get so drawn in. In fact, he was so obsessed with the twists and turns of the story that unfolded before him, he almost didn't answer the phone when it rang. Even though he could see it was Dean. It meant re-engaging with the world and right now, Cas just couldn't._

"Halt," the Isro told him. "This is it."

He hadn't appreciated how deep he'd sunken into depression. It seemed clearer now from the outside. How he'd withdrawn into this darkened cocoon of fiction and distanced himself from the anguish he felt at how badly he'd hurt Dean. How much he'd let both Winchester's down. Again. He wondered why it was Dean insisted on calling him family, even when it was clear that both he and Sam would be better off without him.

He felt a flicker of irritation as the despair seeped into his Grace. Yeah, he'd been wallowing in self-pity for a while, and he'd been struggling with self worth for even longer. But he did answer that phone when it rang, and gave Dean the benefit of his vast knowledge of lore. He'd helped them defeat the monsters they hunted and he knew that help was appreciated. What kind of test was this anyway, chipping away at his sense of self like this.

"Enough," the Isro said and this time it sounded angry. That did not seem like a good thing but Cas didn't know if it was angry at him or something else. This test seemed designed to delve into the darkest parts of his psyche, and he wasn't sure that was something he had any control over. He was who he was. And he was who he was in part because of Dean. he drew strength from that and waited.

"Next," the Isro said in clipped tones. "Charity and greed."

Where this was going to go, Cas had no idea. He may have had many faults, he wasn't sure greed was one of them.

"You were in a Cage, with Sam and Dean and Lucifer. You offered him your vessel, allowed him to walk the earth once more."

Cas couldn't understand this request at all but he obediently found the relevant memory and let it play out.

" _Can you really beat her?" Cas asked. If Lucifer could beat Amara, perhaps Sam was wrong about not letting him out of the Cage. But asking Sam to host Lucifer again was more than anyone should ask of his young friend. Sam's mental health was stable again, and the last thing Cas wanted to do was shatter that again. But Sam wasn't the only robust vessel around here. Cas's own vessel had been significantly improved by God, and his continued survival of things that would have utterly destroyed other angels spoke to its vigor._

" _I can," Lucifer said confidently._

" _Then yes," Cas said._

Without even getting a signal from the Isro, Cas paused the memory. Misery swamped him, he'd been so sure here that he was doing the right thing. Lucifer had lied, as he always did and Cas really had known better. But he'd been so desperate, to save Sam and Dean, to protect what little he had left. He'd been battling doubt and low self-esteem for months and Lucifer had used it against him. He struggled to see how this made him greedy. How was it greed to want to protect those you loved?

"Ah," the Isro said. It sounded less unhappy than it had before.

"Can I ask a question before we move on?" Cas said.

"Yes," the Isro said. "I can't promise I'll answer."

"Did Gabriel pass? If I make it through, will I see him?"

Cas could feel the Isro's surprise. Perhaps it thought he was going to ask how he was doing.

"He is not finished," it said after a moment's pause. "I cannot tell you if he will pass or not."

"It's OK. I just wanted to ask him something, if I make it through," Cas said.

"Then let's keep going," the Isro suggested, still sounding perplexed. Cas nodded. "Temperance and gluttony is next. We go back to the Apocalypse once more. You drank an entire liquor store, I believe."

" _Cas, hey, uh, it's me. So we are in Blue Earth, Minnesota, and um, we could use a little help. I…hope you get this."_

 _Cas tossed the phone away from him, Sam's whining voice grating at his nerves. What was the point in going to help? He was a failure. He'd searched for his Father and found nothing. In fact, it was worse than that because he'd actually lost something along the way. Faith. His faith in his Father's purpose, in his plan, had been shattered. Even his faith in Dean was at a low ebb. He'd sacrificed so much to get to this point and it was all worthless. He was worthless._

 _The liquor store was dark, the owners having shut up shop for the night. It was easy to break the lock and make his way inside. He decided to start with the whiskey, since that was one of Dean's favorites. He grabbed a familiar looking bottle and opened it, taking a large mouthful and swallowing it down. He was vaguely aware of the red winking eye of a CCTV camera but he couldn't find it within himself to care. He kept drinking. One bottle turned into two. Then ten. He just kept going. Surely if he drank enough, even his Grace wouldn't be able to keep up. Drunkenness worked for Dean, if he could just get enough alcohol into his system, surely it could work for him._

"Here," the Isro said.

It was the only time Cas had ever been drunk. To be honest, he hadn't really enjoyed the experience. Why Dean sought the state out so frequently didn't make much sense. Of course, for humans, alcohol blotted out memories and suppressed impulse control, so perhaps it was unfair to make a comparison. But while he was drinking, it had briefly seemed like an answer. But only as long as he could keep going. Once he'd exhausted the supply of booze, his responsibilities had begun to weigh on him once more and he'd wearily dragged himself to Sam and Dean's location, where he'd humiliated himself in front of Sam.

But Sam's forbearance had been both unsought and strangely comforting. And Dean, after getting over his initial surprise, had been kind and thoughtful. Cas had come close to confessing, that day, just how he felt about the hunter. That thought was a little startling, because he mostly avoided thinking about that. But perhaps it was time to admit the truth. He was beginning to suspect that he'd failed this test, and if he was soon to become one with the abyss, perhaps it was time to acknowledge it.

He _loved_ Dean, not in the comforting family way like he did Sam but romantic love. He'd never entertained the thought head on like this before. Even when he'd confessed to the Winchester's as he lay dying from Remiel's lance, he'd phrased it ambiguously so that he could deny the truth, even to himself. But there it was. He'd always known Dean couldn't return his feelings, and that he was destined to yearn for something he could never have. But he never regretted meeting him or being so stupid as to fall in love, as painful as it was. It had brought him a strange joy too.

"We're almost done," the Isro said. "And you've started down the road to this one already. Chastity and lust." When it didn't continue, Cas frowned to himself. What was it going to choose. None of these memories could possibly be good.

The silence stretched out. Cas began to feel increasingly on edge as he waited for the Isro.

"You kissed the demon, Meg," she said finally. Cas jerked in surprise, that was not the memory he had been expecting. He'd been furiously rifling through assorted memories where he'd come across Dean partially dressed. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes, not so much.

 _Meg had just offered to hold off the Hellhounds, a strange offer of self-sacrifice that really didn't fit with her personality. Even more surprising was the way she wound a hand around his neck and kissed him. He should have pushed her away. She wasn't the one he wanted. But she was willing and for a moment he could pretend. So he threw caution to the wind and threw Meg against the wall, kissing her with all the passion and desire for Dean he kept bottled up inside._

Even now, the memory made him feel strange and quivery all over. Meg was long dead, and truthfully he'd never really wanted her although there had been a certain simpatico. But sex for him wasn't simple and he was glad it had never gone further. His mind jumped to his encounter with April, another sexual experience that had been more about loneliness and projection than true attraction. Around Dean, he'd done his best to hide his feelings and he thought he'd done a good job. Sam sometimes gave him a look that made him think his young friend suspected. But the important thing had been that Dean never knew, because it would make him uncomfortable and Cas never wanted to risk their friendship. He cherished that and had to accept that was all he could have.

He ached now for Dean. But he regretted nothing.

"That was the last of the tests," the Isro said.

Cas felt exhausted and naked, like he'd been stripped of all his defences. "I suppose I failed."

"Why would you think so?" the Isro said curiously.

"I'm used to failure," the angel said.

"Then you have failed to see yourself properly," the Isro said. "But that is not a crime. No, Castiel, you passed. Gabriel is waiting for you."

Cas felt warm and happy at the thought of seeing his brother again. He felt a shifting in the environment and then the golden presence of Gabriel seemed to surround him.

"Hey, bro," Gabriel said. He sounded happy to see Cas but there was an edge there. No doubt the test had been as hard on Gabriel as it had been on him.

"Gabriel," Cas said. Love for his brother flowed through him and he reveled in it. "It's good to be with you again."

"Same," Gabriel said. "I was gonna go straight back to earth, but the Isro said you wanted to see me first."

"I wasn't sure I'd have another chance," Cas admitted. "I wouldn't blame you if you shunned the rest of us again."

"Well, they are mostly dicks," Gabriel agreed. "But… maybe you'll see me around." Cas was sure that if a wavelength of celestial intent could wink, then Gabriel had. It was a little odd, like he was hinting at something but it went over his head. And then the sense of his presence was gone.

"Are you ready?" the Isro said.

"Yes," Cas said. He felt cleansed somehow. Whole in a way he'd not felt in a very long time. "I've never been more ready."


End file.
